If David could use one word to describe Jack Kelly it would be charismatic. With his boyish good looks, charming grin, and mischievously sparkling eyes, his friend had a talent for winning others over. Aside from the small rift with Pulitzer and his men (which was eventually settled anyway), David had never seen Jack end up in a situation he couldn't smoothly talk his way out of. On the one hand it was helpful for getting out of tough spots. On the other hand, David couldn't help but feel the teeniest bit jealous of Jack, especially when it came to Les.

"Jack!" his little brother called out as he ran toward the newsie. "Jack, can I sell with you today?"

Since the moment he'd set eyes on Jack, Les had been hooked. Jack was the tough, street-smart hero that Les had only ever seen in books and moving pictures. From the moment he'd seen Jack swing out from that awning and knock the Delancey brothers off the hay cart, he'd been awestruck. He had immediately taken a shining to Jack, emulating his moves and words, and even defending him when he went scab on them in the middle of the strike. In his eyes, Jack could do no wrong.

It drove David crazy to be pushed aside and replaced by another brother figure, even if said figure was his closest friend.

"Hey, Les," Jack greeted with a huge grin. He basked in the undivided attention of the ten-year-old boy. It made him feel appreciated, something an uneducated street rat didn't always feel. He looked up and saw David walking slowly behind. The other boy's slightly dour expression did not go unnoticed. "Davy," he greeted with a nod.

Ever the ball of energy, Les was still bouncing up and down, swinging his wooden sword about as he tried to grab Jack's attention. "Ma's been reading me this really good book! It's all about a pirate and he and this other guy are trying to find treasure on this island. I can't remember the name of it…"

"Treasure Island, Les," David supplied. "It's by Robert Louis Stevenson."

"Yeah," Les agreed with nary a glance to his older brother. "And this guy sings 'Yo-ho-ho and a bottle of rum' and something about a dead man's chest! Isn't that great, Jack?"

Jack gave Les a perfunctory pat on the head, playfully knocking his cap down over his eyes. "Sounds great, Les. Maybe I'll come over one of these nights and read a bit of it to you."

David snorted internally. While Jack was a better reader than most of the other newsies, the odds of him getting through a story on the level of Treasure Island were on par with the odds of the Delancey brothers making friends with all of them. It would probably be quicker to just have Les read it to Jack.

He reached out and took Les' hand. "Come on, Les, we've got to get our papers."

Les pulled away petulantly. "I want to stay with Jack!"

"We don't have time to fight about this. We've got to be back by supper or Ma won't let us sell on school days any more. Now let's get our papers and find a good spot."

But the youngest Jacobs child was stationary. "You go get your papers," he said, taking a few steps behind Jack, "and Jack and me will sell together. I promise to be home before supper. 'Sides, Ma likes Jack so she won't mind me being a little late."

More infuriating than Les' childish actions was the fact that he was right. Like Les, the entire Jacobs family adored Jack. He could do no wrong in their eyes. If he brought Les home at midnight no one would say a thing. If David were to do the same thing, though, he'd have to listen to his mother's scolding for the next two weeks, would have to re-earn her trust to go out on his own to sell with Les.

Why was that? Why did every thing come so easily to Jack while David constantly got the raw end of the deal? Why couldn't someone—anyone—like David more, just for once? Why was he the forgotten brother?

Jack stepped in between the feuding siblings. He gently pulled Les forward, giving him a push toward David. "Hey, Les, you've got to listen to David. He's your big brother. You and me, we can do something later."

"But, Jack," he whined, not even trying to keep David from hearing him, "I don't like selling with David! All he does is yell at me!"

"That's only 'cause he's looking out for you. Now go with him and I promise I'll sell with you another time, okay?"

"Oh, don't bother," David snapped. He was at the end of his rope, tired of being pushed aside and replaced by Jack, tired of being forgotten by his family, especially his little brother. "Fine, Les! You want to sell with Jack? Go ahead, see if I care! Just don't come crying to me when Ma yells at you!" With that, he stormed off angrily toward the distribution center. He heard Jack calling for him to come back, but he didn't turn to look or respond. Les could go live in the Lodging House for all he cared. Let Jack take on the role of older brother and see how easy it is trying to deal with Les. Maybe Les would see that Jack was as human and as fallible as David was. Good; he hoped he did. Let his little brother watch his idol fall right before his eyes.

It was no skin off David's back.


He'd predicted his mother would be angry when he came home without his brother in tow, and he was correct.

"David," Esther Jacobs admonished as she worked furtively to finish stitching the skirt Mrs. Witherspoon had dropped off two days before. David had always marveled at his skillfully his mother could work a needle and thread through fabric while simultaneously scolding him and his sibling, never poking herself even once. "I asked you to watch your brother!"

"I tried to, Ma," he argued feebly. "Les didn't want to stay with me. He was being a pain and wouldn't do what I told him to do.

His words fell on deaf ear as his mother barreled ahead. "He's only ten, he is not old enough to be wandering the streets alone."

David crossed his arms and leaned back against the wall. "He's not alone. Jack's with him."

At that Esther softened visibly, an action that caused David to react in quite the opposite manner. Of course, just name drop "Jack" and everything was fine.

"Very well, but that doesn't mean you're off the hook." Well, almost everything was fine. "You should have stayed with him."

"What am I supposed to do? Tie him to my wrist so he can't run off? He doesn't want to stay with me and Les is stubborn; he won't do anything he doesn't want to do."

"And you aren't stubborn?" Esther asked with a tiny gleam in her eyes. "He is your brother, after all."

"I think he'd rather have Jack as a brother," David mumbled gloomily. "Maybe you should just adopt Jack. Everyone seems to like him better."

"David Jacobs!" his mother said, dropping her needle work onto her lap. "What on earth are you talking about?"

He shrugged. "Les likes him more. When Jack's around I'm nothing. And you all fawn over him as though he were President McKinley himself." He shuffled over to an empty chair and fell into it. "Everyone—Les, the other newsies—they all praise him as being the one to end the strike. I know I'm supposed to practice humility, but I hate that no one gives me any credit. I the one who gave him the words! I did just as much as he did for the cause!"

Esther stood and walked to her middle born child, maternally stroking his hair. "David," she said softly, "I understand it must be frustrating, but we are all very proud of you. Your father and I and Sarah and even Les, we all know that you and Jack were a team in that. And there is nothing wrong with wanting to be praised for your accomplishments.

"Maybe we do tend to treat Jack with more delicacy than we do you, Sarah, and Les. But, sweetheart, you are different. From what I've heard of Jack's family life it was not very stable. But you were blessed to grow up with a mother, a father, and sister, and a brother."

"A brother who hates me," he muttered.

She ignored it. "We may not live a lavish life, but we provide for you as best we can. You know that you will always have a roof over your head and dinner on the table as long as your father and I can give it to you. Jack doesn't have that security. He doesn't have anyone working to give him a better life. His life has already been determined and unless something drastic happens he'll likely spend the rest of his life in manual labor."

David frowned, though not an angry frown, a pensive one. He'd never really thought much about Jack's life in comparison to his. Of course, Jack didn't have many of the things he had, but it didn't seem to bother him. Then again, Jack was good at hiding his true feelings. Racetrack was lucky Jack didn't play much poker.

"We only want to let him know that someone cares about him," Esther finished, giving David a kiss atop his head. "I'm sorry if in doing that we have made you think we care less about you. Because you don't, David; we could not love you more."

"What about Les?"

"He's ten, sweetheart. Everything is exciting to him, especially things and people he's never experienced. His adoration of Jack will eventually fade away and soon Les will think of him as being just another friend. But you," she said, wrapping her arms around him and pulling him against her, "you will always be his brother, no matter what."

David fidgeted, uncomfortable in his mother's embrace. Finally, he extracted himself from her arms and excused himself to his bedroom, claiming he had to study.


Jack looked across the bench at Les who was greedily munching on the hot dog they'd purchased from a nearby cart. The young boy's legs kicked back and forth merrily and he didn't seem to have a care in the world.

Too bad Jack's conscience wasn't so clear.

They'd spent the afternoon selling near Irving Hall, with Jack taking one end of the building and Les taking the other. David had passed through Jack's line of vision at one point; Jack had waved and David had turned away and quickened his pace. Jack could see he was upset, though it wasn't much of a surprise. No one likes to have someone they care about turn on them.

"Your brother looked pretty upset when we met up earlier," he commented nonchalantly.

"Yeah," Les said with a mouthful of hot dog rolling about, "David's like that. He hates for me to have fun."

"You know that ain't true, Les. David just wants to watch after you."

"I don't need watching over. I'm almost eleven!"

Jack grinned. Sometime he saw a bit of himself in Les. "I know that, but he's still your brother."

"I wish you were my brother. Your life is great."

Any trace of his smile disappeared when Jack heard that. While he was content with where life had led him he couldn't imagine anyone being envious of his life. Who wanted a dead mother and convict father as a family? Who wanted to spend each day killing himself to make enough money for food and a bed? Who wanted to feel so alone, feel like no one out there cared if he lived or died?

"Les, my life ain't as great as you think. Now maybe it seems exciting, but it's not something I'd want you living. And," he added, giving Les a gentle pat on the back, "as much as I like you, kid, I'm not really the big brother type. I'd only end up screwing things up. You should be glad to have Davy as a big brother."

"All David cares about are rules, rules, rules," Les proclaimed with an exaggerated roll of his eyes.

"What's so wrong with rules?"

"You don't care about rules."

"I car about some of them," Jack said, though he couldn't think of many at the moment. "But that ain't the point. You gotta have rules sometimes."

"But with him it's all the time."

"Les, David only does what he does because he doesn't want to see you get hurt. You know how many of the guys back at the Lodging House wish they had someone who cared about them like that? Yeah, we're all friends and we joke around, but at the end of the day we're still alone, no family or nothing."

Jack had lost his audience, which he noticed when Les began jabbing his wooden sword through the air, stabbing some invisible foe. He reached out and grabbed the sword, lowering it so Les would look at him. "Les, the things you said to David…you shouldn't have said that. When you ain't at home he's the boss and you weren't being respectful to him."

"Oh, so you're on his side now?" Les asked with a sour face.

"Yeah, I am. I don't think you know how much David does for you, what he does 'cause he wants you to be safe. He's your brother. You may not always like what he tells you to do, but you should still do it. If your parents told you to do something, you'd do it, right?" Les nodded. "Well, then why didn't you do that with David?"

Les didn't have an answer for him.

"Come on," Jack said, pulling him from the bench, "let's get you home."


David was still holed up in his bedroom when Les and Jack arrived. He hadn't even come out for supper. When he heard the familiar voices, though, he peeked his head out.

"We already grabbed something to eat," Jack assured Esther, waving away her offer of food. "Me and Les had a good day today."

"It looks like it may rain," Mayer commented. "You know you're always welcome to stay here."

"Thank you, Mr. Jacobs, but I got a bed open for me at the Lodging House. I'll be heading out now."

The Jacobs family didn't try to cajole him into staying longer, which surprised David. They bade him good-bye (and Esther slyly slipped a small piece of breaf into his coat pocket) and thanked him for watching Les for the day.

David gently closed the door and returned to his studying. His eyes were tired and his stomach growled but he didn't want to go out there.

The door creaked open and Les poked his head in. "David? Whatcha doing?"

"Reading. Go away."

True to his rebellious nature, Les did just the opposite, stepping into the shared bedroom and plopping atop his bed. "Whatcha reading?"

"Nothing that would interest you."

"How do you know?"

"Because it has nothing to do with pirates or cowboys or Indians or any of that stuff. It's math."

"Oh," was Les' reply. Math definitely wasn't interesting. "What'd you do today?"

David groaned in annoyance. "I sold my papers, same as you. Then I came home in time for supper, unlike you."

Les pushed himself off the bed and walked to David's chair. "David?"

"What, Les?" he snapped. "I need to study and I don't have time for your hundreds of questions.!"

His younger brother looked away under David's angry glare. "I just wanted to tell you that I'm glad you're my brother."

Now it was David's turn to be taken aback. "What?"

"You're a really good older brother and I'm glad you're my brother even if I don't always show it."

"Oh…thanks, Les," he said sheepishly. "You're a pretty good brother too."

They were silent for a few moments. Then Les ran out and returned holding a moderately-sized book. It was Treasure Island. "Hey, David? Would you read the next chapter to me?"

This time David just smiled. He flipped his book closed. "Yeah, Les, I'd like that."

The brothers took a seat on David's bed, Les sitting cross-legged and David sitting with his legs hanging over the side. He took the book from his younger brother, flipped to where his mother had left off, cleared his throat, and began to read.

"From the side of the hill, which was here steep and stony, a spout of gravel was dislodged and fell rattling and bounding through the trees. My eyes turned instinctively in that direction, and I saw a figure leap with great rapidity behind the trunk of a pine. What it was, whether bear or man or monkey, I could in no wise tell. It seemed dark and shaggy; more I knew not. But the terror of this new apparition brought me to a stand…"


AN: Thanks for reading!